


Flufftober Day 6: Quicksilver

by GuyOfShy



Series: Locked Tomb fics [11]
Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Flufftober, Flufftober 2020, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuyOfShy/pseuds/GuyOfShy
Summary: Prompt: QuicksilverPalamades and Camilla reflect on the dining room discourse in GtN.
Relationships: Camilla Hect & Palamedes Sextus
Series: Locked Tomb fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937449
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27
Collections: Flufftober2020





	Flufftober Day 6: Quicksilver

“That could have gone better,” Camilla said to no one in particular, if only to break the stiff silence lingering from the dining hall.

“I have decided to count our blessings that it went as favorably as it did. Had the Ninth not intervened, you could have been pitted against an enemy likely more formidable than the Second and injured further. And after that… what else, but full blown discourse and dissension?”

“Do you doubt me?” Camilla asked dryly, as to ensure that she was joking.

“After that brilliant showing, how could I?” scoffed Palamades. “I said to go loud, not like the wrath of the Emperor.” Palamades showed her an effusive smile, hardly able to contain his admiration.

“It got results.”

“Oh, but it did, Cam. In as cutthroat a skirmish as ever. I would have applauded, were the atmosphere not soured five times over.”

“Your contribution to that against the Second’s necromancer was equally as fascinating, Warden. I've never heard or seen you like that. ‘Going loud,’ as it were.”

Palamades huffed, as though humiliated by the praise, feeling quite unthrilled by the acerbity he had resorted to against Deuteros. “Walk softly and carry a damn big stick, Cam,” he said briefly.

It was true that he did not anticipate such a dispute arising going into the impromptu meeting; especially not the physical violence that had been seen. He had expected, perhaps foolishly, the other houses to be even a slight more tolerant of their deteriorating situation, and realized he was stuck in a war among fools when they decided to deteriorate it further. But he realized two minutes into that commiseration where the intent was spiralling to.

“Camilla, have I ever told you what the Master Warden truly is?” He took her silence as a no. "The Master Warden, above all, must be fluent. Readily translating. Gleaning insight from any and everything and transmuting insight into action. You are my Hand because you are fluent in aspects where I am not.”

“Swordplay,” she finished.

“But one aspect. You keep a cooler head than I. You discern conclusions while I am still studying the information leading to it. You are like quicksilver: a white-hot streak of passion and intent bubbling under the cool surface current. A quality truly worthy of a Warden.”

“How very Seventh of you, Warden,” Camilla mused blithely.

A light breath escaped Palamades’ lips. “Oh, but it’s true, isn’t it? What can I say? The Seventh is a beautiful house of beautiful beings.

“That Protesilaus is a handsome fellow.”

"Oh, quite," scoffed Palamedes, his mouth shooting up into a wry grin. "All jokes aside - that was quite good; impeccable timing and delivery - what was truly beautiful was the Ninth House standing beside us there. I have heard tales of the Third's cavalier in... grim detail, and we had seen enough bloodshed back there anyhow.”

“I would not place too much stock into their allegiance.”

Palamedes’ fingers drummed his arm as he hummed thoughtfully, as if she had spoken what was on his mind.

“A dark house of darker arts and yet darker secrets they may be, but their presence alone is not a bad omen. What concerns you?”

“I view them as a portent,” said Camilla flatly, looking directly at him.

“They perturb you, do they?”

“Not deeply. You?”

“Oh, yes, Cam. Right down to my bones.”

“Don’t joke.”

“I wish I was,” he sighed, his tone grave. “Nevermind our poor humor; we’ve another, more pressing matter at hand. Let’s get that wound dressed.”


End file.
